


Stars Above the Path

by IndigoDream



Series: Bribe & Reward fics [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Idiots in Love, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Singing, light Violence, no beta we die like renfri, this is just pure softness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24665287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDream/pseuds/IndigoDream
Summary: Geralt of Rivia arrived in Novigrad, seeking his bard, and found him in troubles. But nothing there was new. They enjoy a quiet day afterwards.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Bribe & Reward fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745836
Comments: 12
Kudos: 136





	Stars Above the Path

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glass0marbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glass0marbles/gifts).



> Hello~ 
> 
> This is my first gameverse fic, and I haven't played the games yet WOOPS. But i did want to try my hand at it for the lovely Blue!! I hope you'll enjoy the fic dear!!

Novigrad was just as Geralt remembered. The houses were close to one another, people would pass him by and jostle him as they hurried from one shop to another, and he was almost completely anonymous. In the rain, his white hair did not stand out so much, as it was hidden underneath his cloak’s hood, and he kept his swords well strapped to his back. This way, he could almost be any other witcher than himself, although if anyone looked closely, they would know the White Wolf was amongst them. 

It was not pure chance that had led Geralt to Novigrad. He had heard of monsters hunting the Redanian territory, and he was in need of some good coin after the rough spring he had. Hunts that had gone wrong, Cirilla gone with Yennefer… Geralt craved some comfort, and he thought it well earned. He was tired of all of this, the scars on his body aching with each new morning that he woke on some forest ground. 

So he had willingly let his steps take him to the free city, hoping to find there his bard. After all, Dandelion, while a free spirit who never seemed to rest, always had his arms open for Geralt. It had been too long since they had seen each other, anyway. He missed the bard, missed traveling with him and hearing him sing bawdy songs to all the handsome boys and pretty girls in every town they would pass by. It was always an entertaining sight, before they went to bed together, the bard asking for closeness and intimacy, something that Geralt would have never denied him.

The city was overwhelmingly loud, with merchants shouting for their wares and women haggling for prices. Children run around, sometimes stumbling into his legs, apologizing briefly without a look to Geralt as they start running again. Market days had never been Geralt’s preferred time of arrival, but he would do with whatever he was given. He could not wind up time to arrive another time, and he was too eager to find Dandelion to back out of the city. He had left Roach at an inn at the entrance of the city, and was now exploring the streets, listening to chatter to see if anyone talked about a well dressed bard.

It should not have surprised him to find the reckless bard cornered in a back alley by a few men, each holding a blade while the bard babbled something or the other. Dandelion had an habit of finding himself in the worst of troubles, at any opportunities he could, and if no opportunities were available at the moment, he would create one. It was, unfortunately, always out of the goodness of his heart, but it also required Geralt to always be on the look out for any enemies that threatened his lover. 

“You see, lovely gentlemen, I don’t appear to possess any coins that I could part with at the moment,” Dandelion was saying, the lilt of his voice not sounding quite panicked as it should. “Of course, if I had anything I could give, I would but-“ 

“Shut your mouth,” one of the men snarled and came closer, his blade nearly touching Dandelion’s neck. “We know you have money.” 

Geralt fully stepped in the alleyway, removing his hood from his hair as he did so. He did not want to spook his friend, although knowing Dandelion, the man would have known it was him regardless. Still, his white hair was always a reminder for human opponents of whom they were against, and he hoped that it would be enough to deter the men from attacking him, or hurting Dandelion any further.

“I would refrain from that, if I were you,” Geralt said, and Dandelion smiled brightly as he saw him. “I would like my friend to be unarmed.”

The men turned around, and Geralt sighed heavily as two of them ran towards him, dagger raised as they did so. He did not need his swords for street bandits this way, and it was almost slightly insulting that they would come at him this way. They could at least put some efforts in attacking, he thought. 

He quickly disarmed both men and knocked them out, their strengths not matching his own, and took care of the last one who had remained with his weapon against Dandelion’s neck. The bandit had moved closer in the minute or two it had taken for Geralt to remove the others, and he was now holding Dandelion by his hair, hiding behind him like a coward. 

The bard, however, seemed perfectly happy with the way things were going. “Geralt! Long time no see. I didn’t know you were passing by.” 

“You never know, Dandelion,” Geralt smiled slightly. “How do you always manage to find yourself in such situations?” 

The bard shrugged, his smile never leaving his face. He was truly gorgeous, and the way he looked Geralt up and down as they both got soaked with rain spoke loudly that he was appreciating what he was seeing as well. 

“Give me your coin, witcher, or your friend dies,” the bandit squeaked out, and Geralt had almost completely forgotten him. 

Dandelion’s smile faded a bit then, annoyance showing as he rolled his eyes. “Can’t you see I’m trying to have a talk with my friend?” 

With that, he slammed his elbow in the surprised man’s stomach, making him heave and bend away as he caught his breath. Spinning around, the bard raised his knee, pushing the bandit’s head on it with vigour. Blood poured out of the man’s nose as Dandelion pushed him away and hit him in the face once again, sending him to the ground.

“A shame people can’t be polite anymore,” Geralt couldn’t help but comment, grinning as he reached for Dandelion. 

“Really, I wonder who taught them that it was alright to interrupt people’s conversation,” the bard replied with a mischievous smile and came closer, taking the extended hand as he swooped to get back his hat, which had fallen to the ground. “The youth really doesn’t have any manners nowadays.” 

Geralt laughed slightly, and he put an arm around his friend’s shoulder, covering him with his own cloak as he pushed his hood back over his hair. “Let’s go to the inn I left Roach at, we will get some warm meal inside of you.” 

“Of course,” Dandelion teased as his hand snuck around Geralt’s waist, “I’ll be the one paying for the meal?” 

“Aren’t you a bard extraordinaire?” The witcher responded, turning his head to look at the other man. “You must have enough coin for the both of us.”

They were walking down the street now, and Geralt allowed Dandelion to guide him through the crowd. It was always a pleasant sensation, to finally allow himself to be taken care of. Despite the bard’s tendency to get in troubles, he always repaid the favour by making sure that Geralt felt safe whenever they were together. Before their relationship had taken the turn of eager love and tender passion, he had done the same, always treating Geralt to hot meals and good beds whenever he could afford to, multiple times when he couldn’t afford the same for himself. 

“For you, my dear, I always have coin to spare.” 

Dandelion’s smile was brighter than any sun, and Geralt reached out for his friend again. He wanted to feel his body, to have him close to him and feel that smile pressed against his lips. He had spent too much time apart from him; now, he was craving Dandelion like a dehydrated man craved water. 

With a glint in his eyes, Dandelion let him hold him close for an instant before moving them again. Geralt gave him the name of the inn, and without any more words, the bard led them there. It seemed he knew Novigrad much better than Geralt, as they walked back to the inn in a much shorter time than it had taken the witcher to find him. 

“A room for the finest bard and his witcher,” Dandelion asked of the innkeeper, and continued on with his requests. “And please, have two got meals with wine and ale sent to that room.” 

The innkeeper barely had the time to grumble an agreement that Dandelion was taking the key from him with a blistering smile. He pushed Geralt in front of him in the staircase, and grinned as his hands found his way to the Witcher’s behind. 

“I see that you’ve kept in good shape,” he approved with a light squeeze. “You’re a bit on the lean side since we’ve last seen each other however. What has it been, a year?” 

“Little less,” Geralt chuckled at Dandelion’s forwardness. “Can’t keep your hands to yourself for even a minute. You haven’t changed.” 

“Neither have you, my dear witcher,” Dandelion grinned and pushed open the door of the room. “I must say, it is truly a delight to see you again. I was, for once, not expecting you to come to my rescue back there.” 

Geralt closed the door, letting his back rest against it, and let his hands go to Dandelion’s waist, turning him around and prying a kiss from his lips. The man yielded easily, eager for the touch, and they let themselves get lost in kisses, sometimes heated, sometimes more tender. It was always a gamble that they would find each other, whenever they separated. There was often the doubt, the fear that they wouldn’t. But neither of them was willing to let their freedom go, and Dandelion enjoyed the attention of the crowds too much to stay away from them for too long, while Geralt couldn’t stand it for more than a few days in a row. So they knew that separation was inevitable. It did not make it any easier each time. 

“I’ve missed you,” Geralt whispered against Dandelion’s lips, their mouths already finding one another again. “I’ve missed this.” 

There was utter tenderness and love when the bard answered, caressing Geralt’s cheek and looking into his eyes. “So have I, Geralt.” 

The moment of silent contemplation was broken when someone knocked on the door, and Dandelion retreated, sighing. “Must be our meal.”

Geralt nodded and stepped away from the door, letting the bard pay the maid who had brought their meals. In the meantime, he busied himself with removing his wet clothes and armour, and putting it all to dry. His swords were placed next to the bed, and he was soon left standing only in his shirt and pants. 

An appreciative noise came from Dandelion as he put the food on the table, and his grin widened when he saw Geralt turning to him. “Don’t stop on my account.” 

“I’d rather not eat while only in my small clothes,” Geralt chuckled and came to sit, looking at the meal in front of him. “Do I want to ask what it is?” 

“Probably not,” the bard winced. “You didn’t exactly pick the finest establishment in Novigrad, my dear.” 

“I’ll be sure to rectify that then. Where are you settled?” 

Their meal was spent catching up, exchanging story details, and, as it always was when they were reunited, they were languid and always in some form of physical contact. If it weren’t a hand on a thigh, it was a foot curling around an ankle. If it wasn’t that, it was their thighs pressed together. Despite his joking manners and light attitude, it really did seem that Dandelion had missed Geralt just as much as he had been missed by the witcher. 

After dinner, Dandelion was quick to get rid of his own clothes and of the last few ones Geralt was wearing, and they found each other easily in bed. There had never been anyone with whom it had been quite so easy for Geralt. Dandelion knew him, sometimes it seemed that the bard knew him better than the witcher knew himself, but it was not as scary a thought as it could have been. Rather, the thought of being so well-known, so well cared for, was a comfort. 

They lay in bed afterwards, a bit winded and giggling, and they let their hands drift onto the other’s body with more delicacy now. 

“You’ve gotten more scars while we were apart,” Dandelion frowned, displeased. “Some of those don’t look well tended to either.” 

“You know how it is on the road,” Geralt shrugged, passing his fingers through his bard’s long hair. “I don’t always have the time to visit a healer.” 

Dandelion hummed unhappily. “I’ll have to pay you a visit to one then. I don’t have quite enough coin for the best one in town though… I suppose I’ll have to go sing a few rows while you get some rest then.” 

He started to move away, but Geralt blocked him gently. His arms resting around his lover’s torso, he let his head and disheveled hair fall on his lover’s shoulder. It was a quiet embrace, one that usually Dandelion was more prone to giving, on mornings when Geralt had a hunt to go to. 

“Don’t go,” he whispered against warm skin. “I’m fine.” 

“But your scars-“ 

“Are fine,” Geralt interrupted with a gentle kiss to the man’s cheek. “I just want you in my arms for now.” 

Dandelion turned his head to Geralt and the kiss they exchanged was, this time, much more gentle than before. They stayed in this position for a few minutes before he let himself be cajoled back into laying down, Geralt still holding him. The man still smelled of the delicate chamomile perfume he favoured, but now there was also the scent of sex and sweat, and, over it all, the scent that Geralt knew to associate with happiness: sea salt and lavender. 

He had gifted Dandelion lavender oils when they had taken a detour by the coast a few years back, and after that, it had become a regular scent, long after they had exhausted the supply of scented oils, and long after they had left the coast. It had taken a little while for Geralt to recognize that smell for what it was, but now he sought it out at every occasion he could. He loved knowing that he was the one making Dandelion happy this way, that there wasn’t many who could do that. 

The bard was definitely the most friendly person Geralt had ever met, but he was also one of the most secretive of his heart. Yes, he was easy to sleep with the local wives, to have a tumble in the hay with willing partners, but he didn’t give his heart easily. After all, it had taken them quite a few years before they had admitted to each other that their few nights spent together were more than just that. It had taken Dandelion even longer to admit that he loved Geralt. 

“Who will sing if I am not there?” Dandelion asked, his head resting on Geralt’s torso as the deft hands of his lover braided his hair delicately. “You are taking me away from eager crowds.” 

“They can survive one night without you,” Geralt rolled his eyes fondly. 

“Maybe, but you know I cannot survive without music, my love,” he grinned mischievously. “You must sing for me.” 

“No.” Geralt shook his head. “You can forget that idea.” 

“Won’t you do that for me? I know you have a lovely voice yourself,” the bard insisted and pressed a kiss against Geralt’s throat. “It is just for me, after all. I would never judge you.” 

Geralt grumbled, but Dandelion’s expression was pleading, and that was always something to which the witcher had been weak. Although, nearly everything that the bard did made Geralt weak. 

“Fine. What do you want?” 

Dandelion grinned widely. With a sweet kiss, he thanked his lover, and then took a few seconds to think. 

“Why don’t you sing _The Stars Above the Path_? I know you know the lyrics…” 

Geralt groaned. “Must you pick that one?” 

“You told me you loved it when I sang it to you, I just want to experience the same thing as you did, my love.” 

Dandelion knew that he had won the second Geralt groaned again, this time a more defeated sound. He laid his head again on Geralt’s chest and closed his eyes, waiting for him to start singing. 

With another defeated sigh, Geralt started singing the words of his lover’s song. The ballad was tender, and Geralt couldn’t help but feel love swelling in his chest as he watched Dandelion smile happily. 

Their bodies were entangled together, and as Geralt sang, he felt all the tension fading from his body. 

They were safe here, together, and he would let himself enjoy it. 

**Author's Note:**

> The song actually exists and I could only find the polish version but it's absolutely lovely and I truly encourage y'all to check it out! 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1avFxuoKdX4#action=share
> 
> If you liked this, don't hesitate to comment or leave a kudos :D You can also come talk to me on tumblr (@saltytransidiot) ! 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it!


End file.
